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other Books by 

JOHN HENTON CflHTER 

— ^)^«>j^ — 

PROSE 

Thomas Rutherton. 
The Impression Club. 
The Man at the Wheel, 
Ozark Post Office. 
All Sorts of People. 
Bopple, Wiggins &. Co. 

VERSE 

Duck Creek Ballads. 
Log Cabin Poems. 



TWO COPIES r<i-.^EiV£0, 

library of CoRgr«t% 

MAR \ 6 1900 



2- 






Copyright 1900 

By JOHN HENTON CARTER 

All Rights Reserved 




.£/uyVcni^ (s>a/t/,^c^ 



But ^ereh^^ 


\n]^^ 


or Missoury*^^ 


By 


JOHN HENTON CARTER 


Commodore RoUingpin 


Author of The Impressimi Chib, Thos. Rut her ton, etc. 


CARTER & BRO 

St Louis 

1900 



\ 



C4 O7 



TO C. S. CRANE, Esq., GENERAL 
PASSENGER AND TICKET AGENT 
of the WABASH RAILWAY, WITH 
THE GRATEFUL AFFECTION OF 
THE AUTHOR. 



OUT HERE, m OL' MissoaRg. 



<^<^- 



Ouf here in oV Missoury^s plenty good enough fur u» 
An^ although wc hev our troubles, yit we know they minht 

be wus. "" 

Our craps are aliis bountiful-our graineries air full 
Aa^ tee kin git enough to eat, although the times air dull. 
Out here, in oV Missoury. 

Out here in or Missoury, the climate's jes about 
The finest 'at you ever see, an' tohere there is a doubt- 
Ez when it seems to threaten rain, its apt ez not to clear 
An' then you see oV Sol come out an' shed his luslre here, 
Out here, in ol' Missoury. 

Out here in ol' Missoury-nell, our scenery is scvh- 
Our rivers, vales an' mountains, you can't look at 'em 

too much — 
'Specially in springtime, when all uatur's on a boom 
An' spreads herse'f, an' seems to say, ^\Tes all I ast i- 

room , " " " 

Out here, in ol' Missoury. 

Out here in ol' Missoury, ue have ev'rything at's good, 
ne re banktn' , too, on Providence-' at s alus understood 
^^\'^^_^"''''' the fertile fields, the fruits and fiowere'. 

An' thank Him fur each blessin' , ez onr fathers ust to 
clo—~ 

Out here, in ol' Missoury. 

Out here, in oV Missoury-thar air other States aroun- 
Butweaxn'tgredgin' 'ema thing they hevon topo' groun' 
Tie re common ez the commones' , ez good, too, ezthebe^'- 
An don't ast eny better place in futur an' the res',' 
Out here, in oV Missoury. 



^ CONTENTS. 1^ 

Page. 

The Rhyme of Louisiana 1 

Same Old Way 21 

The Town That Grew 23 

The Old Log Cabin 27 

James AVhitcomb Riley 33 

Fafmlr Rodgers' Dream o5 

The Roustabout 38 

A Memory 41 

Old Uncle Ike 43 

The Old Farm 46 

Captain Schmidt 52 

IVIiLT Colby 55 

SVgrking in the System 62 

Our Battle Line 64 

De Juse Dat's In De Cane 67 

Dewey's Victory' 69 

Vv'hat He Fit Fur 71 

The Man of Manilla Bay 73 

Rock Along 76 



Page. 

An Ode tg Spring 78 

Canal Street, N. O., in the Afternoon SO 

The Old House on the Creek 82 

The Wreck 87 

Expansion 90 

Ozark Pete 93 

Random Verses 95 

A Plea for the Poet 99 

The Power That Grew 103 

Missouri Nightingales 105 

Kipling 107 



The Rhyme of Louisiana. 



^ons had passed away ere this occurred, 
Civilizations of which we've not heard. 
Till Pandemonium, reigning supreme, 
Hope seemed to vanish and leave not a 
beam. 

Then God surveyed His work, and pity 

came. 
* *Thou art my children all, thine is the 

flame. 
Soul of my soul art thou, breath of my 

breath — 
Frightened by what you see, palsied by 

death. 

' 'Thine is the thrift of weeds, strangling 

the grain; 
Blindness, by blindness led, leads but to 

pain. 

♦U Sig. 2. 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Folly alone impedes thy swift advance, 

Yet to learn my will, there is one more 
chance. " 

Then westward sailed a mariner, and, lo ! 

A vast new continent man came to know. 

''Sleep no more," God said, "in obscu- 
rity. 

Thou hast before thee a grand destiny. 

* 'Here will I rest my work — here make 

the test. 
Man that has known his worst, here know 

his best; 
Liberty untrammeled, with no tyrant 

nigh. 
Master at last of his own destiny. 

''Here the new life begin in the new 

land; 
It shall be glorious, it shall be grand. 
Every ingenious work man may contrive 
Till things inanimate seem half alive. 

' 'Art shall perfection reach; Science as 

well ; 
Learning exhausted leave nothing to tell. 
♦2^ 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA, 

Everything understood — e v e r y t h i n g 

done — 
There can be nothing new under the sun. 

*'Envy long vanished, and slander long 

dumb, 
The Millenium finally shall come, 
And my Word justified fully at last, 
The long promised trump shall sound 

forth its blast." 



Incantation hy the Breech of the Jungle. 

Hearken to the song primeval of the 
southland and the west. 

Ere the silence had been broken herea- 
bout. 

Or the problems of the future even dreamt 
about or guessed, 

That the race is now engaged in working 
out. 

When the river lost and found itself in 

its majestic swing, 
And the wild fowls reared their young 

upon the shore, 

♦3f 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

And it seemed as if the sky came down 

when'er they lifted wing, 
And eternal night had sought the world 

once more. 

Where the forest and the foliage rose a 

veritable wall, 
Hinting of the mysteries that lay behind, 
And the foot of man had ventured not 

responsive to the call 
To blaze the way for destinies assigned. 

Where the bayous tunneled inland thro' 

the ever present bowers, 
And the net-work which the fungus 

growths bestrew 
Like a veil that seems to emphasize the 

langour of the hours, 
That the pulseless days and nights are 

dreaming through. 

Ere the stroke of prow or wheel had smit - 

ten yet the inland sea, 
And disturbed its ever languid, peaceful 

rest, 
Or the slave had come to toil and rise to 

greater destiny, 

♦4* 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA. 

Through a Lincoln, yet embryo in the 
west. 

When the savage camped upon his own 

nor yielded sullenly, 
His eyes fixed ever on the setting sun, 
Or the Anglo-Saxon's foot was pressed, 

as pressed 'twill ever be, 
By the arms that never yield an inch 

once won. 

Oh, the length and breadth and depth of 
it, the wildness of it too, 

Breathing cadences no mortal ear hath 
heard, 

AVhere the old is never old, and where 
the new is ever new, 

And the ripe and rot of life has been de- 
ferred. 

But bend your ear and listen, for the 

locust sounds the hour. 
And the king of all the jungle's on his 

throne. 
He has come to hold his court in all his 

royal pomp and power, 

In an empire that no human soul hath 

known. 

♦54- 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Canebralce, King of the Jungle. 
* *I am Canebrake, the primeval king, 
And I heard the forces whispering 
Hosannas unto Jehova, ere 
There was earth for man or woman fair. 
I seized upon the first spot that came 
With the cooling marl, and took my 

name. 
And ruled the land, while Neptune, he 
Clung to the ever unchanging sea. 
My throne is a storm uprooted oak. 
And my hair and beard my only cloak, 
And the ignis fatuus is my crown, 
And none there be can pull it down. 
But 'tis the hour, awake, awake. 
Come from the ferny bog and the brake 
Ye of the lair and all creeping things — 
And ye who float upon airy Vv'ings, 
And ye amphibious, on the shore, 
And hear the story of fate once more. 
For while it is old to most of you, 
Yet to the young 'tis ever new. " 

(He paused while he stroked his long- 
white beard. 
And then uttered forth his story wierd) : 
♦6^ 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA. 

"For aeons the globe had swung in space, 
The last offspring of the planet race — 
A nebulae, yet a vital force 
That had found its orbit, kept its course. 
And the fire of youth was in its veins 
As it roamed the skies and swept the 

plains 
Of the ether blue. The elders smiled 
And cheered the pranks of the fretful 

child 
For oh, it was brave and fearlessly 
It wrought for its own great destiny. 
And it gathered strength as ages fled, 
And grew in bulk, though it still was red 
With the heat that forges noble thought 
And it singed its way, as it wrought and 

wrought 3 
Till at length, full fledged, it sought no 

more' 
To gather from the primeval store 
Invisible, yet omnipotent. 
And omnipresent, co-existent 
With God himself. But nov/ turned 

within 
Its powers to greater conquering. 
To relegate the forces to 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Their proper spheres and create anew 
From chaos order and harmony 
And all the glories that were to be." 

Still space was lit by the g-lowing fire, 
Though the flames had clearly spent their 

ire; 
Yet, they burned till all was purified 
And crystalized — and then they died. 
And the molten mass at last grew cool, 
And the sea was there, the stream and 

pool, 
And the blackened ashes were the land, 
And creation now was close at hand. 
The story's long; I'll detain you not 
Except to tell what affects your lot 
And drove you to the jungle and the sea 
And to miss the higher destiny. 

Nothing's perfected by nature quite, 
She creates, suggests, then rest in spite 
Of her supreme will. The rose you'll see, 
Though faultless indeed it seems to be. 
Conceals somewhere an alien leaf, 
Suggestive of an unwhispered grief. 
And the lily white and pure as snow, 
Turns weeping eyes to its stem below 
♦8^ 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA. 

Where the gangrene scuqi has hedged it 

round, 
That blurs the face of the crystal pond . 
And the luscious fruit, upon the tree, 
May conceal a worm, and land and sea 
Are heirs as well to the same defects, 
Which substantiates, ah more, connects 
The tale of tales I shall now relate 
How life took form, and took its fate. 
• 

*'Lo, I found myself upon the sea 

By Neptune's side, and the mermaid she 

Was there. And he claimed her as his 

own — 
And he bore her to the depths unknown 
Victorious — while I sought the shore. 
To rule the jungle for evermore. 

What followed thence I may never tell. 
For a langour came and slumber fell 
Upon me. When I again awoke 
The sky was cleared and the blackened 

smoke 
Had vanished. And all the earth was 

green. 
And a million creeping things were seen. 
♦&♦ Sig-. 3. 



OUT IIEHE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Some hideous, and some fair to view — 
And among them all, erect stood two — 
Matchless in form — a man and woman. 
The birth had broug-ht forth but two hu- 
man 
Beings. The rest, foreordained and 

doomed 
To cringe and crawl. Living, yet en- 
tombed — 
The greater possibilities. Waste, 
Existence in slinking and disgraced. 
Frenzy stricken many sought the sea; 
Others the caves, more again as we 
The jungle. And now, you've heard 

again 
The old, old story, and so. Amen." 



King Canebrake paused, and the tribes 

withdrew 
Their several pastimes to pursue. 
The panther sought the arching limb 
Of a cypress tree, well known to him. 
And a she bear lay upon the ground 
With her happy cubs all gathered round . 
A youg buck kicked up his heels and fled. 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA. 



And others followed wlier'er he led. 
A squirrel leaped to the nearest tree — 
A chipnionk scampered off in glee. 
The snakes withdrew to the fenny bog 
And stretched themselves on the same 

old log. 
The wolves went off on their nightly chase 
And the fowls soon disappeared in space. 
Amphibious creatures sought the shore, 
And the panther soon began to snore. 

King Canebrake still kept to his throne, 
For some yet lingered though most had 

flown, 
And presently a young lizzard came 
In sore distress. He took the same 
In his fleshy hand, and soothed its woes, 
With speech that only a father knows, 
And made it whole ; and it went its way, 
When a wounded bird that long had lay 
With a broken wing now fluttered near — 
It had suffered much, for a tiny tear 
Coursed down its bill from the weeping- 
eye. 
He took it up and he kissed it dry. 
And he smoothed the tiny broken v/ing. 



OUT HERE, IX OL' MISSOURY. 

When off it flew and began to sing. 
And a snake that had a broken back 
Crawled to the throne, and said, King, 

alack, 
A limb fell on me this very day ; 
He touched the serpent, it sped away. 
And so he sat till the last was healed, 
When the ignis fatuus flickered, reeled. 
And then went out, when he sank to rest 
With his long, white beard upon his 

breast. 

• 

Song of fhe Steainboaf. 

From the woods and mountains I came. 

Forged by the stroke of man 
I partook of his power and fame 

To be the thing I am. 

And I am vital in all my parts. 

He breathed life into me; 
And together we visit the marts 

And sail the inland sea. 

And I know his magic touch as well. 
And he my throb and thrill, 
^12t 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA. 

And my ambition is to excel 
In love and service still. 

I am swifter than the untamed deer, 

With more endurance, too, 
And whither I go the people cheer 

And I'm loved by my crew% 

But lo! what's that that seems to fly 

Wingless along the shore? 
*'I'm the iron steed," w^as the reply — 

* * Your brief career is o'er. " 

The Old IIuUc, 

''Once I was king of the inland sea, 
And none there were to dispute with me. 
I reigned alone over all the tide, 
And felt in my heart a monarch's pride. 
My faith was strong, my future bright, 
But, alas! my hopes have taken flight; 
For you came and bore my power away, 
And I am a thing of yesterday. " 

The Locomotive. 

• 'My empire rests on bands of steel, 
No need have I for your prow or keel. 
I burrow the rock-ribbed mountain 
through 

♦134- 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

To the open plain and broader view, 
Wiiere the sunlight fell on lands un- 
known, 
Till I came and made them all my own. 
Man uses me as he once used you — 
But my mission done, I'll vanish, too." 

Then the old hulk sighed and said no 

more. 
And they parted by the river shore. 
But when midnight throws its subtile 

power 
About the scene and vv^hite fogs lower, 
Lo ! it floats once more, the boatmen say, 
And drifts out into the milky way, 
On a phantom cruise, alone, and then 
Back to its bed in the sand again . 
♦14^ 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA. 

THE DREAM ClTg. 
1903. 

I. 

It S33aied like some enchanter's wand 
had touched the earth anew, 

Yv'^hen lo! above the horizon a city came 
in view; 

Great palaces and sunny walks, with gar- 
dens set between, 

And shielded from the ruder touch by 
lawns that intervene, 

II. 

No toil -bent form, nor careworn look 

that marked ill fortune's prey 
In the old world that perished with the 

buried century, 
But on each cheek the glow of health 

and beam of manly pride 
That's worn upon a holiday when cares 

are put aside. 

III. 
And one there was of stately step and 
noble poise and mien, 
^15* 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Ah! well it bs for us if we see his like 

ag-ain — 
•Oar later Lincoln, worthy he, our chief 

executive, 
Who stood for liberty that it might not 

perish, but live. 

IV. 

Soft strains of music floated out and filled 

the entire space, 
Larghetto tones like those that summon 

chargers to the race. 
And so throughout the lengthening daj'. 

the moving throng and din, 
Till shadows fell upon the scene and 

darkness settled in. 



Ere long the garish light w^ent out, and 

silence reigned supreme; 
The crescent moon shone in the sky and 

shed its silvery beam, 
And over all the city hung that soft 

translucent mist 
That veils the earth and marks the hour 

w^hen spirits keep their tryst. 
♦16^ 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA. 

VI. 
At length, a lone belated cock roused on 

its perch and crew, 
When airy figures filled the grounds and 

all the buildings too. 
Around each brow a halo shone and lit 

each thoughtful face 
On which was writ indelibly, "the noblest 

of the race. " 

VH. 
Much pleased were they at what they saw 

and in an undertone 
One said: "I seethe colors here of ev'ry 

land and zone. 
The people, and their customs too, in 

miniature arriiy, 
And all the arts and sciences that bless 

the world to-day. 

VIII. 
Old Spain we fought so recently, is here 

in all her pride . 
Her sons have caught the new-born light 

that glows on every side, 
And from the far Pacific shores the Ab- 
origine 

♦17^ Sig. 3. 



our HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 



Climbs half the globe to bless the flag 
that dared to set him free. 

IX. 
And ancient Britain too, and France, and 

Italy as well, 
Have planted here their colonies, that 

have their tale to tell. 
And he, the Knight of swarthy face, and 

heart that knows not fear- 
Folds his white tent in the Soudan to pay 

homage here. 

X. 
And old Japan, that caught the spark 

and fanned it to a flame. 
And China, feeble and effete, with little 

but a name — 
Looks back upon five thousand years, 

forgetful that to-day 
Theyouthful offspring of all time is here, 

and here to stay. 

XI. 
And there again's the Fatherland, and 

Russia, struggling still, 
To breast the spirit of advance, and 

thwart the human will, 
♦18^ 



THE RHYME OF LOUISIANA. 

Half madiaeval and half new, moreover, 

blindly wise, 
But Tolstoi's seed is bearing fruit, and 

she in time shall rise." 
XII. 
So spake he forth, till one arose, the 

Nestor of them all ; 
The meagre locks were white as snow 

that fringed his well-known poll. 
He stood upon a purple throne, evolved 

it seemed from air. 
'*I move that Thomas Jefferson shall 

occupy the chair. '^ 
XIII. 
Then rang thereout such loud applause, 

the very echoes woke — 
Ah! well indeed they might, since it was 

Uncle Ben that spoke — 
And as he bowed and took his seat there 

came a long array 
Of patriotic souls who wrought for the 

incoming day. 

XIV. 
And Washington and Hamilton, and 
Adams and the rest, 
♦19* 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 



And Houston, Crockett, Daniel Boone, 

in common homespun dressed, 
And Grant and Lee came arm in arm , 

and all the gray and blue 
That fought the old dead issues out and 

made way for the new. 
XV. 
And so the shadowy column passed, 

until at last arose 
The ringing voice of Chanticleer that 

heralds the night's close, 
When lo! they vanished as they came, 

day broke again anon , 
The city woke once more to life, and the 

World's Fair goes on ! 



SAME OLD WAY. 



SAME OLD WAg. 

Jes ez it wuz when I v/uz young: — 
Your mother lef her fo'ks an' clung 
To me; an' it's natural you 
Should want to hev your own way, too 
Guyrls mos'ly do in marryin', 
An' 'tain't no use fur kith or kin 
To argy with 'em. You will be 
Happier 'an you air with mo. 

Your mother's things — only a few 
Trinkets 'at she lef to you — 
You'll find 'em in the closet there — 
They all air your'n — the lock o' hair, 
An' locket, an' the Bible she 
Writ your name in the day 'at w^e 
Had you christened, an' you cried — 
An' now you're goin' to be a bride! 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MI33 0URY. 

Well, all of US mus' say good-bye 
Sometime, darter — com.e, now, don't cry 
You're only doin' what you should, 
An' what '11 be fur your own good — 
What ev'ry young guyrl ought to do. 
You'll visit me sometimes, won't you? 
What! Ain't goin' away? Then we 
Will hev to find room here for three! 
♦22> 



THE TOWN THAT GREW 



THE TOWN THAT GREW. 

Would you hear the tale of the town that 

grew? 
It is quite romantic, and more, 'tis true; 
Which is better still. It happened this 

way- 
Come now, draw up your chairs and lis- 
ten, pray. 

'Twas a border town of the ancient sort, 
With a mayor, a constable, and a court. 
And a college gave it a learned air; 
But poverty seemed to be anchored there. 

And it wouldn't thrive, but just held it's 

own 
For a hundred years, as is plainly shown 
By the records kept, for a history 
It had, and moreover, a pedigree. 
♦23^ 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MI3S0URY. 

' Twas a place, all said, to be left behind, 
And not of that other inviting kind 
To be moving to, for crops wouldn't grow. 
And taxes were high, while the lands 
were low. 

And what was v/orse, none could rent or 

sell. 
So some moved, and said, "It could go 

to ," well, 

Never mind where; but a small number 

stayed, 
' 'Too d d poor to move away, ' ' ' twas 

said. 

But one day a man came cavorting 

around, 
And he looked at the runs, and he smelt 

the ground; 
And he tested the sam^e, and he thought 

and planned; 
Then papers vrere drawn, and he bought 

some land. 

The farmers all chuckled and packed up 
their things. 

♦24t 



THE TOWN THAT GREW. 



And moved to the west where cattle have 
kings, 

And cowboys run wild, with long flowing 
hair, 

And a farm's called a ranche — and set- 
tled there. 

But the fellow that bought didn't plant 

nor plow ; 
'Twassaid by some he didn't know how. 
*T\vas oil he was after — for that he'd 

bore, 
And he did and struck it big rich — what's 

more! 

A new crowd came in and it came to stay. 

And the town it boomed, and booms to- 
day. 

They've electric cars, and more, it is 
said — 

A saloon for every three hundred head 

Of people, and all other things that make 
A city that's reaching out for the cake; 
And its biggest man , by common accord, 
Is the chap who came from the East and 
bored. 

♦25> Sig. 4. 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 



And that is the tale of the town that grew, 
And this is the moral, although it's not 

new, 
Poverty kept many from moving away 
Who pose as the blood of the city to-day. 

But what of the ancients who went out 

west? 
Where coyotes howl and the wild things 

nest, 
And the cowboy roams with his flowing 

hair — 
Well, it's not foot-ball they're kicking — 

out there ! 

♦26t 



TjIg old log cabin. 



THE OLD LOG CABIN. 



The o'l log cabin's lef alone, deserted 

now an' still; 
Nobody 'pears to care for it, an' reckon 

never will; 
An' so I keep it for myse'f , same way it 

wuz when we 
Moved over into our brand new house, 

like fine sassiety. 
An' here I come an' set an' think about 

the days 'at's past 
Till ol'-time frien's jes seem to take thar 

seats agin, and ast 
About the news; an' then Melindy, she 

jes comes in, too, 
An' all the chil'en romp an' talk the way 

they ust to do. 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

An' all at onct, the fire at's bin put out 

this twenty year 
Sta'ts up agin, an' other things begin to 

reappear — 
The dog-ir'ns, an' the crane 'an hooks, 

an' skillet an' co'n-pone 
A-bakin' on the boa'd the way it did in 

days at's gone; 
An' purty soon, thar comes a knock upon 

the ha'f closed door. 
An' Uncle Abe, with saddle-bags, is here 

agin for shore — 
The same tall fo'm, the hones' face, an' 

voice 'at ust to say : — 
*'Jesdraptin, Jim, to get a snack an' pass 

the time o' day." 



An' then he looks aroun' an' sees the 

ladder standin' thar — 
The same one 'at we ust to use because 

we had sta'r; 
Then over in the corner, whar we kep' 

the cider Jug — 
An' purty soon, I seemed to hear that 

same old **gug, gug, gug!" 
♦28^ 



THE OLD LOG CABIN. 



An' then we both set down an' talk 'bout 

politics an' craps, 
In Sangamon an' cou'ts, wharfo'ks still 

law an' hevthe'r scraps; 
An' presently, Melindy comes an' says 

to us, says she, 
^'Dinner's ready," an' o' cou'se, 'at suits 

or Abe an' me. 



Here in the middle o' the room the table 

ust to stan' — 
Remember, jes ez plain ez day, how 

'tvvuz we ust to plan — 
Melindy an' ol' Abe an' me come fust — 

the chil'en last; 
An', talk o' larnin ! orto hear the blessin' 

he could ast ! 
An' then to see the way he et! Melindy 

ust to say 
She alus liked to cook fur fo'ks 't enjoyed 

it thataway . 
He'd he'p hisse'f to chicken pie, an' 

mashed potaters, too, 
An' pass his cup offen, ez ol' -timers ust 

to do. 

♦29^ 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Well, we wuz makin' hist'ry in them ol' 

days, I 'low. 
Although we didn't knowMt then theway 

we know it now. 
A\^ho'd ever think 'at Nancy Hanks 'ould 

be so talked about. 
An' Sangamon 'ould hev the fines' m^on- 

mcnt 'at's out? 
Jes does one good to steddy 'bout the 

times 'at's passed away, 
AVhen fo'ks done things because they 

should, an' not jes fur the pay; 
Y/hen neighbors ust to all tu'n out lo 

he'p us cut our wheat. 
An' gals wuz kissed, not grumbled at, 

when things run sho't to eat. 



Now% ev'ry thing's so citified — so awTul 

fine an' nice; 
Spring w^ater ain't half cool enough — 

they hev to hev their ice ! 
An' place o' young fo'ks gittin' up 'fore 

daylight ez they did 
When I wuz young, we call 'em now 'b:u.t 

breakfas'-time instid. 
♦30^ 



THE OLD LOG CABIN. 



The birds don't seem to sing no mo' the 

way they ust to do — 
I reckon they've foun' out that tunes air 

out o' fashion, too. 
Them operys and sonaters 'at's jes the 

sam.e ez Greek 
To fo'ks ez likes plain music — a-ham- 

'rin' at us all week. 



An' then, fo'ks ain't as neighborly ez 

they ust to be — 
Dun't ever come to borrer things when 

they hev company, 
But hitch right up an' drive to town an' 

lay in a new bill, 
An' never think o' swappin meat when 

time comes roun' to kill. 
An' huskin's, too, an' parin' bees, an' 

spellin' schools no more 
Air heard of like they ust to be when we 

wuz young an' pore; 
Nor "blin' man's buff," nor ^'heavy, 

heavy, hangs over your head, " 
An' "hoi' fas' all I give to you," an' 

nothin's here instead. 
♦3U 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Same way, too, with the fiddle, an' the 

good ol' country dance — 
No use fur us to Ivnow a step — we never 

git a chance 
To show it — nothin' but the waltz an' 

schottische an' thar like. 
An' that pianner music's heard from 

Sangamon to Pike. 
O' cou'se I know the worl' hez changed, 

an' we're a-growin ol', 
Belongin' to an age 'at's past — our story 

hez bin tol'. 
But while / live an' hoi' the deeds to this 

here bottom Ian', 
A double section, too, at that, tln'^ hut 

hez got to stan'. 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. 



JAMES WHiieOMB RILEg. 

9 

James Whitcomb Riley is what they 
Call him — spelt clear out thataway; 

Looks nice in print, an' soun's well, too 
To strangers — but with me an' you 

'At knows him — we jes say plain "Jim, 
Howdy, shake," an' 'at suits him. 

Don't want to be made over, jes 
Asts to be treated like the res' — 

No matter where you fin' him, an' 
He's all the same with po'reor gran% 

'Cause he don't go much on pedigree, 
'Ceptwhat folks makes theirselves— 
you see. 

He haint a soarin' to the skies 
For idees, but jes sets his eyes 

On what's aroun', an' ben's his ear — 
An' my! the things 'at Jim kin hear. 

An' see — why all the tribe is jes 
A s'archin' now for Riley's nes' . 

He 'lows there hain't no up nor down 
With God — so he sticks clost to groun', 
♦33t Sig. 5. 



our HERE, IN OL' MTSSOURr. 

An' studies it; sez 'at we feed 
On things 'at hev their be'th in seed 

An' all the ea'th is jes a mine 
O' poetry 'ats been lef behin'. 

'Haint worryin' 'bout things above, 
'Lows 'at the worl' is full o' love — 

An' sets to p'intin' out the vine, 

An' sez, ' * jes watch it shoot an' 
twine;' ' 

An' then goes on to prophecy 
'Bout a fresh crop o' punkin pie. 

An' all at onct we're guyrls an' boys 
Agin' an' feel retarnin' joys 

'At we hain't knowed sence w^e vv'uz 
young, 
An' went to chu'ch an' riz an' sung, 

To git a chance to hoi' the book 

On which a certain garyl 'ould look. 

At's why the people all like Jim — 
Fac' is, you see, they dote on him 

An' universally agree 

He writes the kind o' poetry 

'At com 33 horn 3 like a baby's kl^ 
About the closest thing there is. 
f34^ 



FARMER RODGERS' DREAM. 



FARMER RODGERS' DREAM. 

Las' night I went ter bed an' dreamed — 
The diirndez' dream, in fac' it seemed — 
'At the old town wuz painted red 
Er 'an a boug-hten Chris'mas sled 
An' ev'rything wuz jes huray — 
An' holter skelter — thataway. 

Heard more noiz — kereges an' drays 

An' street cars — jes a reg'lar craze 

Ter git somewhar — might be a fire, 

Sez I, so I riz up higher 

An' ast a feller standin' by 

"What's all this fuss?" Sez he, "oh my, 

Whar you bin fur the las' three year — 
Yer from the country — it is clear." 
An' larfin jes lef me ter guess — 
Waal, I wuz in an awful mess — 
An' pinin' like a saint in doubt 
When pray'r haint findin' right things 
out. 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Seein' the plight 'at I wuz in — 
Wantin' ter set me right agin — 
A chap steps up an' sez, sez he — 
Addressin' his remari^s to me — 
"We're on our way ter the Worl's Fa'r, 
Jes jine us an' we'll soon be thar. " 

So I fell in an' 'way we went 
Pinted somewhar towards the Dent 
Farm whar Gin'ral Grant lived 'fore he 
Wuz the big man he got to be. 
Er ennyhow whar thar wuz room 
Ter work up a St. Louis boom. 

Waal, it wuz thar "ter the Queen's tast," 
Ez town folks say, an' fun ter wast 
An' such a scene — on'y the skies 
When light an' shadder bring supprise 
Ter all the clouds 'ats sailin' by, 
An' par 'disc seems awful nigh, 

Could match it. Jes Missouri's way 
Ov' doin' things — is what they say, 
An' Mc wuz thar to put his thum 
Upon the button. He hed cum 
Ter start the bigges' show on earth 
An' say, **go in fur all yer worth ! ' ' 



FARMER RODGERS' DREAM, 



An' seech a cheerin'— waal, I woke 
Ter find the clock wuz on the stroke 
Ov four, an' went about the chores, 
While the ole 'oman sleeps an' snores, 
Unconscious, too, I hev no doubt, 
Ov ail 'at I had drempt about. 

Waal, dreams, they say, sumtimes come 

true — 
An' this is wun, 'tween me an' you, 
At's built that way. We can't spell fail 
An' wouldn't ef we could. We sail 
In ter win, an' that is jes how 
The Par's ez good ez ourn'~now! 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 



THE ROUSTABOUT. 



V m a colored ronstiibout and catch it as 

I can, 
I'm up from when the boat goes out till 

she gets back again. 
It's in with freight and out with freight, 

and launch the stage as well, 
I'm hustled always by the mate without 

a resting spell. 

'Tis true that Tm young and strong, 

and more, void of sentiment. 
I'm hardened too, from skin to core — 

reckless too, of bent — 
It's in with freight and out with freight, 

and launch the stage as well, 
I'm hustled always by the mate without 

a resting spell. 

♦38^ 



THE ROUSTABOUT. 



I only have one suit of clothes, a ragged 

suit at that. 
My shoes are minus both their toes, and 

rimless is my hat. 
It's in with freight and out with freight, 

and launch the stage as well, 
I'm hustled always by the mate without 

a resting spell. 

'Tis never thought that I must sleep — in 

fact, I have no bed. 
I toil while stars their vigils keep and 

when the sun is red. 
It's in with freight and out with freight, 

and launch the stage as well, 
I'm hustled always by the mate without 

a resting spell. 

I know that I am pretty rough and wicked 

on the whole, 
Yet kindness comes not by the cuff that 

crushes out the soul. 
It's in with freight and out with freight, 

and launch the stage as well, 
I'm hustled always by the mate without 

a resting spell. 

♦39t 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Yet, when my sands of life are run, and 

I am laid to rest, 
Eternal justice shall be done by one who 

judges best. 
It's in with freight and out with freight, 

and launch the stage as well, 
I'm hustled always by the mate without 

a resting spell. 

♦40^ 



A MEMORY 



A MEMORg. 

A rosebud nestling at the mountain side 
Where brooklets murmur and the wild 
birds sing, 
Mused in its lonely hours, "woe me be- 
tide, 
Alas ! alas ! Had I but voice and wing 
That I might seek my love while yet 'tis 
Spring. ' ' 

A wandering zephyr caught the soft re- 
frain, 
And wafted it to lands beyond the sea. 
The v/inds bore back: "Sweetheart, I 
come again, 
Oh, keep thy virgin promise pure for 
me; 
Be mine, be mine, I love alone but thee." 
♦41f Sig. 6. 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Love plucked the bud and pressed it to 
its heart, 
The petals opened, it was now a flower, 
And whispered: "Cling to me ere yet we 
part, 
For life is brief and winter skies shall 
lower — " 
Ah me ! that it should wither in an hour. 
♦42^ 



OLD UNCLE IKE. 



OLD ONCLE IKE. 

or Uncle Ike is eighty-three 

Year ol' an' pas'; an't looks like he 
Can't las' much longer; sight nigh 

gone, 
An' hard o' hearin' leanin' on 
His cane, an' lookin' at the groun* 
Ez ef nobody wuz aroun', 

Jes like he wuz a-listenin' 

Fur Gran'ma to come back agin, 
Er waitin' fur to go to her 
A-sleepin' in the chu'ch ya'd ther. 
''Hum, hum, hum, hum," 's 'bout all he 

sez; 
*'Hum, hum, hum, hum," 's away he 
hez. 

♦43^ 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

You wouldn't think, to see him now, 

'At he wuz ever much, I 'low. 
Waal, that's his gun ther' on the rack, 
Jes' heft it, an' you'll put it back. 
Hoi' it out off-han' — not to-day! 
Took him to han'le it thataway! 

Flint-lock, brich bu'nt, an' onto' date, 
'An rusty, an' ol'er 'an the State — 
* *0r ez the hills," is what they say. 
It hez a record, anyway, 
'At hain't bin beat sence Dan'l Boone 
'An' Crockett, an' it won't be soon. 

You orto've seen him on the trail 

Of a fat buck — jes seemed to sail — 
Dressed all in white to match the snow 
An' look a pa't of it, jes so 
They wouldn't s'picion any one 
Wuz 'roun', an' undertake to run. 

But ther' wuz venison' to spar' 

An' bucksin fur to make an' w'ar 
In them ol' days, an' wimmin fo'ks 
Wuz full of fun, an' hed the'r jokes. 
An' times wuz better, too, an' now, 
Er seemed to be so, anyhow. 
♦44* 



OLD UNCLE IKE. 



But he ain't layin' any store 

On such things now; he hunts no 
more, 
'Copt, mebbe, sometimes in his dreams 
When watchin' licks er c r o s s i n ' 
streams, 
Er listenin' to the pheasant's drum 
Till, wakin', he mutters, "Kum, hum, 
hum, hum!" 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 



THE OLD FARM. 



The weather wuz so hot in town, sez I 

to mother, * *How 
'Twould do for us to visit the ol' farm 

agin? I 'low 
It's cooler out thar in the shade, a-spec- 

ially 'long the crick." 
"\Ye'll go," sez she, "ef you think bes," 

an' so I hitched up quick. 

We take the hill road so 'at we can cross 

the upper bridge — 
The valley stretchin' to the right, an' on 

the left the ridge — 
The Tenney place is jes ahead, an' Fay's 

still furder on — 
An' we're a-thinkin' mo' 'an talkin' of 

the days 'at's gone. 
♦46^ 



THE OLD FARM. 



Thar's bin some changes made of late, 

an' both of us agree 
They hinder us from pickin' out jes how 

things ust to be; 
Butpurty soon, a-sure enough, the Gates 

farm comes in view, 
An' then, of course, our eyes let go of 

ev'ry thing 'at's new. 

The same ol' house, the well 'long-side, 

a-standin' on the wes'; 
The bucket, too, 'at rises full of water 

'at's the bes' . 
We stop, but thar's no one at home, at 

leas' it so appears. 
An' 'sides the flies air bad, an' Snip's 

oneasy in his gears. 

So we push on an' cross the bridge, an' 

climb the Hildreth hill. 
But, seein' 'at the house is shut an' 

ev'rything is still, 
I give the hoss the reins an' 'low we'll 

stop ez we come back — 
An' soon we strike the ''run" an' take 

the road along its track 
♦17* 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

A mile or two. We know, of course, 

some fo'ks 'at live along 
It's sides; an' seems we know the birds 

— I'm sure we know their song. 
An', hevin' lef ail this behin' we climb 

another rise 
Of groun', an' the ol' farm's a-standin' 

right afore our eyes. 

Ma wants to drive right over, but I soz 

'* We'll look aroun' 
An' res' a spell here in the shade. I kind 

o" like the soun' — 
The peckers tappin' the dead trees, the 

pheasants drummin', too, 
Jes like they did when we wuz young an' 

ev'ry thing wuz new. 

We pull up now a little an' come to the 

ol' school-house, 
But ez it is "vacation time," it's still ez 

any mouse ; 
An' so air we for quite a while, an' then 

agin drive on, — 
An', lookin' in each other's face, we see 

the years 'at's gone. 
♦48^ 



THE OLD FARM. 



The view is chenged f rum what it wuz ! 

they've cut away the trees! 
An' so the ol' ten -acre fiel' 's a twenty, 

now, with ease; 
An' v/here we ust to gether berries till 

we hed our fill, 
They've cl'ared the timber off an' grub'd 

clean down to Rose's mill. 

The sugar- camp is standin' yit, but ez 

the season's past, 
The troughs air dry an' fallin' leaves air 

fillin' of 'em fast; 
An' silence reigns, an' the ol' hawk is 

lioatin' in the sky, 
A-guardin' it same ez he did in the long 

years gone by. 

The crick, v^^e fin', is jes the same— ez 
cool an' shady, too — 

The trees a- j 'inin' overhead the way they 
ust to do. 

So we drive in to swell the tires an' give 

ol' Snip a drink. 
An', hevin' nothin' else to do, we set an' 

talk an' think. 

♦49*. Sig. 7. 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

An' look up through the timber where 

we see the shinin' dam, 
An' hear the w^ater roarin' an' then jes 

above the ca'm 
Pon' where willers grew so thick, the 

path an' ol' canoe 
'At we liked all the better 'cause 'twuz 

on'y built fur two. 

The spring, of course, we visit, where we 

often used to set 
An' watch the sun go down because we 

feel we owed a debt 
'At we mus' pay; an' then at las' we 

come to the ol' home, 
An' knock an' wait, an' purty soon the 

stranges' faces come 

An' ast us in, but all at onct, remember- 
in' other years. 

Our voices choke, an' then our eyes air 
filled with blindin' tears. 

An' so we tu'n an' drive away, a-think- 
in' of the pas' 

An' the ol' graveyard by the chu'ch an' 
here we air at las'. 
♦5o* 



THE OLD FARM, 



We stop an' spen' an' hour or so, 'mong 

frien's an' kindred dead, 
Some of 'em hev stuns 'bove thar graves, 

an' some jes flowers instead; 
An' others 'at air newer made, with jes a 

plain earth moun', 
Remindin' us how ourn'll look. Then 

we drive back to town. 
^51 f 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY, 



CAPT. SCHMIDT. 

You have heard the tale, it was pub- 
lished wide, 
And all eyes were turned to the sea, 
And they gazed from this and the other 

side. 
For the staunch vessel Bulgaria, 
Until weeks went by and no tidings came 
When at last a part of the crew 
Found floating in boats, ah, more is the 

shame. 
Expressed the unanimous view 
That the ship had gone down and Capt. 

Schmidt 
Had got his discharge at last and quit- 
Plain German Schmidt. 

So we turned aside as the days went by, 

And the seas were settled again, 

And eyes that had wept for the lost grew 

dry, 

♦52^ 



CAPTAIN SCHMIDT. 



For tears become not brave men. 

And the world went on as it went before, 

And the white sails once more were 

spread, 
And the storm king came and he lashed 

the shore, 
And he strew'd the beach wath the dead. 
For a ship gone down is but one ship less. 
And a Schmidt w^ould not be much 

missed, you guess. 

Plain German Schmidt. 



But the Lord has his way of doing things, 

And he asks no advice of man, 

And he has a regard for one who clings 

To his duty the best he can. 

So, when He looked down on heroic 

Schmidt — 
With his name against him also, 
A message was sent to Neptune to quit — 
And the sequel of course we know, 
For a cablegram came under the sea 
*'The Bulgaria's safe, and Schmidt, so 

is he." 

Plain German Schmidt. 
♦53* 



OUT HERE IN 0L» MISSOURY. 

Now, I don't go much on your kings and 

queens, 
Nor your foreign nobility. 
I've been reared on the pabulum that 

weans 
A man from such views, you see. 
But, oh, William, I've changed my mind 

of late 
Very much in regard to you ; 
For though you're a monarch ordained 

by fate. 
You've a heart that is human, too. 
And your conduct tow^ard heroic Schmidt 
Will go far to convince all the world of it. 
Plain German Schmidt. 
♦54^ 



MILT COLBY, 



MILT eoLBg, 



Ez to Milt Colby — well, you see 
Why he's a sort o' mystery. 
Can't draw him out enough to find 
Jes what he's got stor'd in his mind. 
Ta'ks some hisse'f — won't listen back 
To anybody — at's a fact, 
But up and off 'afore you say 
Enough to pass the time o' day. 

'At's Colby's way — he never stops — 
Bolts right in the house an' drops 
Hisse'f plump down on the fus' cheer, 
An' speaks to everybody near 
In a whisper. Can't ta'k out loud. 
'Cause he ain't thataway endowed, 
Leastwise hain't been hisse'f outright 
These twenty year. For that wuz bright 
455^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Ez enny boy in these hyar parts — 
An' when it come to wimmin's hearts — 
Why guyrls 'd tromp to spellin' school 
An' chu'ch, an' huskins' ez a rule. 
Fur miles aroun' to git a chance 
To show off 'fore him — 'an to dance 
Maybe — an' the one lie seed home 
Wuz all the ta'k fur days to come. 

An' furdermore, he'd prospects too — 
Fo'ks 'mong the very bes' to do — 
An' when it comes to pedigree — 
Come wes' 'long with the fus' you see, 
An' settled down on Congress Ian' , 
An' bought up mor' till they'd on han' 
The bigges' bottom fa'm about 
An' riches' too, it's given out. 

Got cros't in love, is what they say — 
You know some fo'ks git thataway. 
Doctors wuz brought frum fur an' nigh, 
or fo'ks, o' couse, a stanin' by, 
An' sayin', ^^ Doctor, bring lihn through 
^ At^ s all ''at you hev got to do, 
An'' name your lyrice — 'a^'s all v:e ast — 
So they stuck to him to the last, 



MILT COLBY. 



An' got hiiii up the way you see — 
Health good enough, ez all agree, 
An' sense, too, o' a certahi kind; 
Knows right fruai wrong, an' hez a mind 
0/ his own, too, when 'casions rise, 
An' fo'ks don't cross him 'at air wise, 
In v/hat he undertakes to do. 
In these here parts, 'tween me an' you. 

Knows all the fo'ks fur miles aroun' 

An' tromps the country up an' down, 

A visitin', an' asts fur^^^'e, 

An' grins, an' then he sez * ^ good bye, " 

An' rushes off like he hed got 

A stent 'at kep' his footsteps hot — 

Cuts 'cross the fields an' thro' the woods, 

An' sometimes swims ef ther air floods. 

He'll show you the bes' place to shoot — 

An' he kin tell you ev'ry root 

'At grows in groun', an' what is m.ore. 

He'll pint out what ther good fur sliore, 

An' how to tell a toad stul frum 

A mushroon, an' then when you con e 

To chincapins and chestnuts, you 

Jes f oiler him; 'at's all you do. 

♦57^ Sig. 8. 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

An' paw-paws — well he knows the trees 
'At ripen long 'fore fros', an' he's 
Apt to bring you ez like ez not. 
The fus' mess ov 'em you hev got 
All black an' soft, an' yaller too, 
Inside ez punkin's wet with dew — 
Knov/s ev'ry grape patch 'at there is, 
An' cou'se the fus' 'at comes air his. 

Same way with fishin' — knows the hole 
Wher' they bite bes', an' sets his pole 
An' waits till it begins to bend, 
Then lif's it, when you'll see him send 
A bass a scootin' through the air 
Er floppin' on the grass somewhere, 
While everybody's wonderin' why 
They don't tech other bait at's nigh. 

An' ef you're hungry, Milt'll make 
You purty soon the bes' fish bake 
You ever et — cooked through inside — 
An' do it all 'thout lard beside, 
Er skillet; jest hunt up a chunk 
O' woji or two, then with his punk 
An' flint he'll kindle up a fire — 
An' ther's a feas' 'at you'll admire 
♦58> 



MILT COLBY. 



Long" ez you live. An' don't forgit — 
Comes from the coal done through, an' fit 
Fur enny king, an' white ez snow — 
Drops from the bone when done ez tho' 
It never hed no fassenin' 
'Cept jes the skin to hoi' it in, 
Which you peel off afore you start 
A eatin' — 'at's your on'y part — 

An' salt an' pepper, like ez not, 

He'll hev along; if not, he'll trot 

Off to some house stan'in' clos't by 

An' purty soon you'll see a pie 

An' broad with butter spread on thick — 

An' then you take your knife out quick 

An' lay a holt to he'p yourse'f , 

An' when through ther hain't much lef. 

An' then, Milt knows the cooles' spring 
Ther' is, an' he's jes' shore to bring 
You to it; an' the cup he'll make 
Out ov a leaf jes takes the cake. 
To drink frum — never leaks a drop 
Frum time you start until you step. 
He's jes a sort o' nat'ral child 
'At town ways never hev beguiled. 
♦59^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MTSSOURY. 

You'll hear the bullfrog go '"kerchunk" 
When he co!T18S roun', head on an' skunk 
Into some hole, an' hide away, 
Sometimes fur a whole night an' day, 
An' on'y come a-peakin' out 
Agin' when thcr's no one about. 
Fi'og's legs air good fur jumpin' high, 
Sez Mdt, ^ 'but better yit to fry." 

An' mayapples an' wil' grapes — 

He kao ATS 'em all — an' 'couse he shapes 

His sef ' up so's to be aroun' 

When ther' a comin' in, an town 

Boys air apt to be about 

'At need some one to he'p 'em out. 

An' then, when it comes to havin' fun. 

You can't beat this in the long run. 

An' berry patches, black or dew — 
Er ras' berries — he knows these, too — 
An' 'arly chan'lers, spots the tree 
Wher' the woodpeckers' shore to be 
An' peckin' 'em so they'll get ripe 
An' harry up an' take the stripe 
At's so attractive, when the air 
Is full ov bees an' summer's ther'. 



MILT COLBY. 



Ez to the guyrl, oh, he's furgot 
Jes all about /^er; like ez not 
She's married — an' apparently 
Happy — like she orto be. 
But when Milt comes to her fur pie 
They say a tear stan's in each eye. 
An' the kin' he likes the best 
Is alus waitin' — guess the rest. 
♦61> 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 



WORKING liN THE SgSTEM. 

I am living in the end of the nineteenth 

century, 
I've been trained and educated like the 

rest, 
To perform my simple part in away that's 

masterly — 
And expected too, to do my very best. 
Working in the system, 
Working in the system — 
An automaton in all the term may mean, 
And doing what I'm told 
I ask no questions bold, 
For I'm only just a wheel in the machine. 

Tm one among the millions of no per- 
sonality, 

And my spirits have been crushed and 
too as well, 

I've been subject to the square and the 
plane, as you may see, 
>62t 



WORKING IN THE SYSTEM. 

'Till I fit the little niche in which I dwell, 
Workiug iu the system, 
Working in the system — 

'Till a part of which at last I've come to 
be — 

Just toiling to exist, 

I never shall be missed, 

So I guess I'll make a break for liberty. 

I will hie me to the west and bestride the 

wild m.ustang, 
And I'll join a band of cowboys on the 

plain . 
And rU wear the boot and spur, and the 

long hair of the gang, 
And I'll strive to win my manhood back 
again — 

Working in the system, 
Working in the system — 
That shall bring the healthful glow back 
to the cheek; 

My spirits shall return, 
My soul shall mount and yearn — 
For I'll be a boss myself then — so to 
speak. 

t63f 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 



OUR BATTLE LINE. 

Say, old glory, you're getting a long way 

from home. 
Do you like it out there? Does it suit 

you to roam 
Where the waters are blue and the islands 

are green, 
And the seasons are one with no clianges 
between? 

Do you wish to return? 
Do you fret — do you yearn 
For the land of your birth, 
On this side of the earth? 
Do they cheer you out there as you dance 

in the breeze? 
Do they know what you are? What you 

mean, do they seize 
On the moment propitious and seek to 

free 
Or say, are they a race of a lower de- 



gree? 



i-64i 



OUR BATTLE LINE. 



Howso'er this may be, we are standing 

by you, 
And shall do so in all you're attempting 

to do. 
For we know you are right and can never 

do wrong. 
While you cling to your birthright, your 

mission and song, 

Which is free, ever free, 
Be the land and the sea 
To the children of men, 
Till in jungle and fen 
You shall float all supreme^ and the ends 

of the earth 
Be redeemed in good time in the long 

promised birth 
Of the fruitage of seed which the Master 

has sown 
In the soil that shall make of the harvest 

his own. 



You are thrown to the breeze and will 
never retreat. 

But shall fearlessly lead where the ket- 
tle drums beat 

♦65> Sig. 9. 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

And the bugle and ear-piercing fife shall 

resound, 
Till the planet in time be encircl'd around. 
You are leading the way 
To the incoming day; 
You are waking the dream 
That the race shall redeem. 
For, lo ! empire belongs to the people 

alone, 
And they're coming at last to inherit 

their own. 
And the good of the many and not of the 

few, 
Is the mission, Old glory, that's fallen to 
you. 

♦66t 



DE JUSE DAT'S IN DE CANE. 



DE JUSE DATS IN DE CAiNE. 

De cultur yar is sugar, sah ; master don't 
go much on books, 
Er de picturs dat dey hangs upon de 
wall. 
All yer eddication an' sech tings he 'low 
jes' hain't worth shucks, 
En he never give 'em eny tought at all ; 
He's tinking 'bout de cane, 
'Bout de sugar cane, 
Hov/ to 'strack de juse out ob de sugar 
cane, 

Dat's what he's tinkin' 'bout 
Day in, sah, an' day out, 
How to 'strack de juse out ob de sugar 
cane. 

He jes' buys dat fertilizer, an' he spread 
it on so tick 
Dat de place look like dare'd been a 
yaller rain, 
An' he never mind de 'spence, cause he 
know'd it come back quick, 
t67* 



OUT HERE IN OL' MTSSOURY. 

In de fructifyin' ob de sugar cane. 
He's tinkin' 'bout de cane, 
'Bout de sugar cane, 
How to 'strack de juse out ob de sugar 
cane; 

He wants to see it flow, 
Like a riber, dat's so — 
Dat's de only t'ing dat worries his brain. 



He ain't studyin' 'bout the fuchar, ner 
a tinkin' on de pas, 
Er a bettin' on de t'ings dat he can't 
see. 
But is bendin' all his min' to make dis 
crop beat las' , 
An' to have de juse flow more abun- 
dantly; 

He's tinkin' 'bout de cane, 
'Bout de sugar cane. 
How to 'strack de juse out ob de sugar 
cane. 

An' I 'low when he die, 
An' wake up dar on high, 
Ef dey don't make sugar dat he'll go 
insane. 

♦68f 



DEWEY'S VICTORY. 



DEWEg'S VICTORg. 



Heard you the sound that roused the 

slumbering sea, 
And smote the star crowned peaks of 

Darien? 
The bolt was fired by hands that dare be 

free, 
And aimed at the old enemy again, 
The crowu that glows above the wrecks 

of men. 

Not in fair field sought you to win your 

way, 
Nor open court where justice blindfold 

sat, 
But rather strove to climb by treachery 
And Machievellian forms begat 
To make of honor a common door mat. 
♦69^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

You set the bull fight up beside the cross, 
And pandered to all sorts of butchery. 
Where'ere you planted foot man felt the 

loss, 
And wore the galling chains of slavery 
And sank to lowest depths of misery. 

But justice planted in the heart of m.an, 
Is nourished by the blood of martyrs 

shed; 
And he who seeks to thwart the Master's 

plan 
Shall bow at last unto the dust his head. 
Ah, Spain! Behold, thy bloody reign 

is dead! 

♦70^ 



WHAT HE FIT FUR. 



WHAT HE FIT FGR. 

He shouldered his gun an' waltz'd off for 

the war, 
He wuz boozy the day 'at he shipjoed, 
An' said to the Sargent next day, ^'I'll 

be gor," 
When he found out the way he'd been 

nipped. 
Wuz right up agin everything he could 

fin', 
Au' wuz lookin' fur truble an' sech, 
Wuzn't a-keerin' acus fur what wuz be- 

hin', 
But wuz jes out for what he cud ketch. 

Wuz fust in the fort 'at we tuk, an' wuz 

fust 
In 'bout everything in the long run; 
Ust ter 'low 'at he'd git his work in er 

bust, 
An' he never know'd when he wuz dun. 
Fur a change he'd slip out 'o camp on a 

tar'. 
An' load up both his boots with the 

booze, 

♦7U 



OUT HERE, IN OL' MISSOURY. 

An' then thar'd be music *'pervailin" 

the air, 
An' the boys wouldn't hev any blues. 

So Cap. he jessez ter ol' Boozy wun day, 
('At wuz what we all call'd him fnr fun) , 
'* You'll hev ter quit kerryin' on thata- 

way, 
Er permotion you'll never git nun.' ' 
But Boozy jes set with his chin in his 

han', 
An' he never made eny reply; 
Jes acted ez ef he could not unnerstan', 
An' I reckon 'at he didn't try. 

Then the Cap. sez agin, "wat you fight 

fur, ol' man, 
Ef it isn't permotion an' pay, 
Fur you're handy when you've a gun in 

yer han' , 
Lem'mehearw'atyou now got ter say?" 
Then he riz up his head, an' he tho't 

an' he tho't. 
Till it 'peared 'at ol' Boozy wuz trick'd. 
But purty soon sez he, '^ Jes fight ^cos 1 

ought, 
An' 'cos 'at 1 don't ivant ter git UcJcedf 
♦72* 



THE MAN OF MANILLA BAY. 



THE MAN OF MA/VILLA BAq, 



Lo, a man onee sailed from Chira away 

On the other side, for Manilla Bay; 
It was w^ar that he sought and war that 
he found, 
And the praise of his deeds went ring- 
ing around 
The world, and the man soon became 
reno\vned. 

Old Neptune aroused, reared his hoary 
head — 
*'Has Nelson come back to the seasr" 
he said; 
' 'Can it be the echoes of Trafalgar?" 
Then lifting his eyes, he beheld afar 
The stars and stripes through the clouds 
of war. 

♦'^S*. Sig-. 10. 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

And he felt in his veins the thrill of 
youth — 
And hope— Ah, well, indeed he mi^ht, 
forsooth — 

For the tyrant's power was soon tumbled 
down 
By the man who sailed from a China 
town, 

And the welkin rang with his great re- 
nown. 

Homeward he came, as a patriot should 
Whose uppermost thought is his coun- 
try's good; 

And it was a glorious holiday 
They gave to the hero who sailed away 

From China to fight in Manilla Bay. 

But woman is fair, and the warrior brave, 
Though he conquer the world, is still 
her slave, 
And Fihe loves to hold in her arms so fair 
The heart that is strong and will not 
despair — 
And the hero finds a sweet welcome there. 
♦74*- 



THE MAN OF MANILLA BAY. 



This is the moral— and 'tis old enough— 
Though man be made of the sterner 
stuff, 
And he front the foe in the strife, and 
slay, 
He's a babe in a woman 's arms — I say, 
Be kind to the man of Manilla Bay! 
♦■75f 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 



ROCK ALOiVG. 

Should fortune frown upon your path, 

Press on with might and main, 
Each victory gained, the hero hath 

More strength to fight again. 
So face life's daily battles with a heart 
that's brave and strong. 
Rock along, 
Rock along, 
Rock along, 

If you're in love, and she you seek 

To be your life-long mate 
Informs you hers is not the cheek 

On which you'll vegetate, 
Don't soMiid your troubles to the world 
a 3 if you were a gong. 
Rock along, 
Rock along, 
Rock along. 
♦76^ 



ROCK ALONG. 



There never was a maid so fair 
That could not find a match. 
You've heard about the fish out there, 

Also about the catch — 
So don't proclaim yourself a bell and 
ring out your ' 'ding-dong. " 
Rock along, 
Rock along, 
Rock along. 

And if at times your lot is hard. 

Your blessings very fevv% 
If others play the winning card, 

While scarce a trump held you, 
Don't fancy that you're fated to endure 
a lasting wrong. 
Rock along, 
Rock along, 
Rock along. 
♦77* 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURI. 



AM ODE TO SPRING. 



To sing o' gentle Spring may be all right 
Fur other latitudes, but don't indite 
Sech nonsense 'bout the wild an' woolly 

west, 
Fur a more vig'rous spring suits her the 

best. 

0' all the seasons o' the roUin' year. 
Spring is the one that's most upon it's 

ear. 
Out on a reg'lar tare from fust to last — 
Talk 'bout its bein' gentle, lemme ast: 

Is a cow gentle that you tell to * ^hist," 
An' kicks the bucket over about twic't 
Afore you start to milkin' her, an' when 
You say, *'so, Bossy, so," an' try again, 

An' find she wont, but to your great 
surprise, 

♦78^ 



AN ODE TO SPRING, 



Plants both her feet 'bout where your 

supper lies, 
An' goes right on a eatin' o' your hay? 
But let me put it another way: 

Imagin' fur a minute you hev thrown 
Your lamps upon a rip roaring cyclone 
That's p'inted fur your shanty an' you 

jes 
Crawl in the undergroun' hole with the 

res', 

An' wait till it hez passed an' then you 

see 
Your house an' barn a keepin' company 
With that same gentle zephyr, that's the 

spring 
O' which a weste'n poet hez to sing, 
♦79*. 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 



CAiNAL STREET, iNEW ORLEAiNS, IN 
THE AFTERiNOON. 

On Canal street in the afternoon 

Thare's asi^ht the eye delights to see. 
Fair as the flowers that bloom in June, 
When the ripening fruit hangs on the 
tree, 

On Canal street in the afternoon. 

All types of beauty will greet you there 
That ever enraptured painter drew — 

The tender eye and the midnight hair 
That falls to the lot of the favored few 
On Canal street in the afternoon. 

The Spanish dame and the Creole belle, 

The tall, lithe form of the Saxon blood, 

The charming glance of mademoiselle, 

The inland maidens of which we 're fond 

On Canal street in the afternoon. 

♦80t 



C.VNAL ST., N. O. , IN THE AFTERNCGN. 

The tempting shops that appeal to you 
With luxuries you have never tried, 

That come from the land of Parleyvoo, 
Or hint, at least, of the other side, 
On Canal street in the afternoon. 

The cars that lead to the homes a^Yay 
In the shady groves where wild birds 
sing, 
And the happy children romjp and play 
While mamma dreams of her absent 
king, 

On Canal street in the afternoon. 

Oh, give me a simple life like this; 

I care not for honors, w^eallh or fame; 

I long to taste of the primal bliss 

And win in one v/oman's heart a name, 

On Canal street in the afternoon. 

^8U Sig. 11. 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 



THE OLD HOUSE OH THE CREEK. 



I've hed a hankerin' o'late, to jes pick 

up an' go 
A visitin' aroun' amongst the fo'ks I ust 

to know. 
I've studied on it till I find I'm gittin' 

real homesick 
To set my eyes onct more upon the ol' 

house on the crick. 

The 'roma o' that cellar is a clingin' to 

meyit, 
An' to think o' that b'iled cider makes 

me too dry to spit. 
Why T saem to taste the ginger, an' hear 

the poker siz, 
An' share with Uncle Dan agin, that 

temp'rence drink o' his. 
♦82* 



THE OLD HOUSE ON THE CREEK. 

I want to see who's livin' an' who's mar- 
ried an' who's dead, 

Ef all the young fo'ks kep' their word, 
an' done jas what they said. 

What boys hev writ their names upon the 
scroll o' fame, an' who 

Accomplished all in after life that they 
set out to do. 

What become o' Hiram Mueller, thathed 

the freckled face. 
An' could never learn his lessons; is he 

on the ol' place? 
In the footsteps o' his father, an' ez close 

fisted too? 
I reckon ef he is that he is purty well to 

do. 

I'd like to see the spring agin, at which 

we ust to drink, 
An' set down by it on the grass an' hev 

a good long think 
About the youthful faces it onct mirrored 

like a glass, 
An' how the worl's been treatin' 'em 

sence all this come to pass. 
♦83^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MI3S0URY. 

Who married Becky Wilkinson, they ust 

to call the belle, 
An' how she's passed the time away? I 

want to hear her tell, 
liez her *'path been strewn with roses 

an' her skies been alus bright, " 
Ez I writ in her album, in the best hand 

I could write? 

Maybe the birds air singin' now the songs 

they ust to sing, 
When apple blossoms were abroad, an' 

all the sweets o' spring 
Were rompin' in the medders an' the 

woods an' garden where 
We ust to stroll together in the quiet 

evenin' air. 

I'd like to visit mother's grave, neglected 

all these years. 
An' ef nobody wuz aroun' maybe to shed 

some tears; 
Leashvise ef they should start, I, 'low, 

I've only this to say, 
I wouldn't try to stop 'em, but letnatur' 

hev her way. 

♦84^ 



THE OLD HOUSE ON THE CREEK. 

I wonder ef the terrapin, on which I cut 

my name, 
Is browsin' in the clover yit, an' lookin' 

jes the same, 
Er ef his gait's a gittin' slow, his eyes a 

little dim, 
An' age that 'gins to pester me, hez also 

com.e to him? 

Ef Brother Sudley's preachin' still down 

at the '-Horner Mill," 
An' every other week or so comes up to 

Jenner's Hill 
To tell 'em all about the broad, an o' 

the narrer way, 
An' hov7 to read their titles clear, an' 

sheep that went astray? 

An' after chu'ch is out ef he goes home 
with Uncle Dan 

To eat a dinner that's got up on the ol' 
country plan? 

Ef this is so I hope that they'll remem- 
ber when I'm there, 

To not forget the circumstance, an' set 
me up a chair. 

♦85^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

I'll 'gree to set all afternoon an' hear 

'em argify, 
About the scriptur's an' the crowns, 

awaitm' em on high. 
Jes to set eyes onct more upon a hunk o' 

punkin bread, 
An' other luxuries on which in early 

youth I fed. 

So I guess I'll wait no longer, but jes 

pick up an' go 
A visitin' aroun' amongst the fo'ks lust 

to know. 
I've studied on it till I find I'm gittin' 

real homesick 
To set my eyes onct more upon the ol' 

house on the crick. 
♦86f 



THE OLD HOUSE ON THE CREEK. 



THE WRECK. 



Mortal, whatever your fortune may be, 
Gold,, like the sands on the measureless 

shore, 
Poverty — pinched by fierce hunger till 

she 
Sits as a guest at your lone hovel door. 
Fame be your portion, and honor as well, 
Sorrow leads on and you follow her beck. 
Tread you the measure where airy notes 

swell, 
Your pilgrimage leads at last to a wreck. 
'Twill end in a wreck, 
'Twill end in a wreck. 

Rear you your palace away from the poor 
Blazon you your gates with your **no 

thoroughfare," 
See that no beggar e'er enters your door, 

♦87^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MIS30URY. 

And say to them, sympathy seek else- 
where. 
Charity rests with the Charity Board — 
Our duty is done, we've given our 

check;" 
Are the annointed those only that hoard? 
Madam, your logic will end in a vrreck. 
'Twill end in a wreck, 
'Twill end in a wreck . 

Flow'rs have their season to bud and to 

bloom, 
The petals then fall, we know them no 

more; 
And sighing, we turn from visions of 

gloom 
Clad in their glory a moment before. 
Time, w^hy thus leave us to sorrow and 

pain? 
What can restrain thee, thy ravages 

check? 
Say, shall we meet our dear loved ones 

again, 
Awaiting us there, just over the wreck. 
Just over the wreck, 
Just over the wreck. 



THE WREOK. 



Lord, send me your winds that blister 

and sting', 
I'd shiver with cold, know hunger as well, 
Toil with the poor, or do any mean thing, 
E'en weep with the pris'ner chained in 

his cell. 
And bring me the cross the Savior has 

borne, 
The Jeers, aye, the scars his body bedeck. 
Let me, too, feel for the weak and forlorn, 
And rise in the end as He from the 

wreck . 
As He from the wreck. 
As He from the wreck. 

♦89^ Siff. 12. 



OUT HERE TN OL' MISSOURY. 



EXPAiNSION. 

Put walls round a land whose people are 

free, 
And deny you're restraining their lib- 
erty? 
Dam up their rivers and say to them lo ! 
It is better to thus lie stagnant than 
flow. 
The source will endure, 
The waters keep pure, 
And covet you not 
What others have got — 
For Republics are things that shall 

have their bounds. 
And freedom's distasteful when it's on 

it's rounds, 
And brains, bear in mind, are very poor 

things, 
Unless they are loyal and serve under 
kings. 

♦90t 



EXPANSION. 



Put walls round a land whose people are 

free, 
Go pinion the winds or silence the sea; 
Restrain you the sap that leaps in the 

spring. 
Or say to the birds 'tis treason to sing- 
Except within lines 
The old code defines 
For empire alone, 
As all time hath shown, 
Is swayed by a crown — the ironclad hand 
And none shall go forward unless it com- 
mand. 
And who shall gainsay traditions that 

stood 
Ere Noah sailed out in his ark on the 
flood. 

Put walls round a land whose people ara 

free, 
To obliterate these is our destiny. 
To fell the forest and span the stream, 
With an eye to the point our constant 
dream , 

Till the earth we span, 
And down trodden man 
♦9U 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Shall rise in his might, 
And the new born light 
Shall greet with a smile and a cheer, and 

lo! 
The earth redeemed from its nightmare 

glow. 
With the fruitage of seed which the Mas- 
ter hath sown , 
In a soil that shall make of the harvest 
his own . 

♦92^ 



OZARK PETE. 



OZARK PETE. 



-0- 



It's the wick'd 'z gits the cream down 
here, 
An' the pius 'z gits the crust, 
But the ways o' Providence air queer 
An' I reck'n we'll hev ter trust. 

I've alus went on religion some, 
An' I 'low I've done my shar' 

To'ards sendin' souls ter kingum come, 
But I ain't no luck in pray'r. 

Why when the k'ards went agin me flat, 

An' I los' my bottom red, 
An' riz a stake on my boots an' hat, 

What d' you think that I said? 

Did I blow an' spout an' want ter fight? 

Not much, for that ain't my trade. 
I goes ter my room that very night 

An' got down 'n my knees 'n pray'd. 
♦93^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MIS30URY. 

I tor the Lo'd how the thing 'd gone, 
An* dwelt on my arful luck, 

How Luke hed my yoke o' steers 'n pawn, 
An' how arf'ly I war stuck. 

Besides he didn't belong ter the chu'ch, 
An' war giv'n ter gain' an' sin, 

Tuk pride 'n leavin' saints 'n the lu'ch 
An' ropin' the members in. 

Waal, I felt rel'eved an' went ter work, 
Plum full o' relig'ous strength; 

Ye see I never w^ar called a shirk, 
An' I alus goes my length. 

80 I staked my trousers on the tray. 
An' waited fur Luke to tu'n, 

But he raked 'em in indiff'rently, 
Like it warn't o' no concern. 

No! thar ain't no salvation fur me! 

I hev got no show up thar, 
Fm 'umble 's any one brok' kin be, 

But I ain't no luck in pray'r. 
♦94* 



RANDOM VERSES. 



RA/SDOM VERSES. 

A maid indeed, forsooth, was she, 
Of noble pose and queenly mien, 

And eyes wherein the mystery 

Sage ne'er unriddled, glows again 

That captive led the Arion swain. 



The home should be a sanctuary where 
None enter save with uncovered head; 

An holy shrine at which we offer prayer, 
Not ostentatious words, but acts in- 
stead. 



'Tis love that makes the ideal home, 
Not title, rank, nor castle grand? 

Where'er it reigns, 'tis sweet to come, 
No matter in what clime or land. 
495^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Hear ye, the bells, they call, they call, 
Come to God's temple, one and all, 

With contrite heart and bended knee, 
Give thanks unto the Deity. 



The world goes on, though we laugh or 
we sigh, 
And hearts are breaking as well, 
And the snow-drift shall come, and never 
ask why 
The roses withered and fell. 



Look you upon that and then upon this, 
The palace is here, the hovel is there; 
One drinks from the chalice flowing with 
bliss. 
The other — dregs from the cup of de- 
spair. 



Oh, come from the alley, the wharf and 
the slum, 
The bells in the steeple already have 
tolled. 
Calling the poor and forsaken to come, 
Welcome, without either silver or gold. 
♦96> 



RANDOM VERSES. 



Oh, good is the past for the h'ght it has 
shed, 
Illuming the world with its perishless 
ray, 
But facing the front, we are marching 
ahead, 
Our eyes ever fixed on the inccmirg 
day. 

There was mounting in l;a&le and the 

fervent farewell — 
There were sighs, there were tears, ?.ll 

that passion may teJl. 
Ah. the wild, frenzied look, and Ihe 

disheveled hair 
That is tossed as a cloud in the stoini of 

despair. 



They laid her where the grasses gicw. 

While yet the rose was red, 
And some had stones above their graves 

On which the years had fed. 
And others that were newer m.ade, 

Where rose the fresh tossed clay, 
Reminding them howtheir's would look. 

And then they drove away. 

♦97^ Sig'. 13. 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Maid of the solemn harp, sing a new song, 
Breathe not a word of your sorrow and 

wrong. 
Turn to the promise of youth and be free, 
All that life offers is waiting for thee . 



Oh, the lover was bold, and the maiden 

was coy, 
Was his wooing rejected, or did it avail? 
Were they wed? was their happiness free 

from alloy? 
He may learn who will read to the end 

of the tale. 

Oh, love is a dream that is seldom ful- 
filled— 

That charms till we wake, and the spell 
is no more. 

The dew on the rose that the night has 
distilled, 

Then vanishing leaves it forlorn as be - 
fore. 

♦98^ 



A PLEA FOR THE POET. 



A PLEA FOR THE POET. 



A glance at the journals we're printing 

to-day, 
Reveal quite a shortage, at least in one 

way. 
They've the news to be sure, the market 

reports. 
The verbiage that gives such tange to 

the courts — 
A record of crime, and of sporting as 

well— 
The pulpit's permitted its story to tell, 
But the poet, oh, he 
Is a back number — you see. 
He's nothing to say that the world cares 

to hear — 

L.of ^- 



OUT HERE TN OL' MISSOURY 



Has sorrow departed, forgotten the tear? 

Are the sentiments frozen, broken the 
mould 

The hearts of our fathers were cast in of 
old? 

[s it only success that enchains you to- 
day— 

V/hy nothing im mortal was e're known 
to pay ! 



Now listen, your'e missing far more than 
you gain, 

For pleasure is fatal to groat, it is pain. 

The spirit develops — the cross and the 
crown — 

And say what you will they will never 
come down — 

But point with the finger of sorrow and 
say, 

' *I am holding the old world together to- 
day, 

And your palaces fine, 
Where you sumptuously dine, 

Shall crumble and fall, and be scattered 
to dust, 

flOO^ 



A PLEA FOR THE POET. 



While the 8tory of one who lives on a 
crust, 

To be true to himself and God shall re- 
main 

And willing ears hear it recounted again. 

'Twas a poem that ushered you in — when 
laid low^ 

A poet shall sing of your virtues also. 



So a plea for the poets — give them a 
chance — 

And bid them return to the fields of ro- 
mance. 

The harp so long silent be smitten again 

By fingers that sound the virtues of men. 

And the chink of the coin that deadens 
the soul — 

And crushes it out of the man on the 
whole, 

Relinquish a part 

Of its space to the art. 

That lives not by choice but in spite of 
the greed — 

That would reap of the fruitage, forget- 
ting the seed, 

♦lOU 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

For whatever you are, you owe to the 

thought 
Of some beggar who sat in garret and 

draught. 
He alone blazed the path that marks 

your advance, 
And honor demands you still give him a 

chance. 

♦102^ 



THE POWER THAT GREW. 



THE POWER THAT GREW. 

A power there was, and it grew and grew 
Till around the globe rang its tatoo 
And its bugle call. A valiant crew 
Indeed was that, of the power that grew . 

'Tis a sea girt iele, the ancients knew — 
Cffisar had trod it — the Norman's blew 
In upon it. Frank and Teuton too 
Fell into line in the land that grew. 

It took to the seas and ruled them — you 
Have heard all this, for 'tis not new — 
And the colonies were not a few 
Planted and nursed by the po\ver that 
grew . 

It had its scholars — some still pursue 
The flights of song and the broader view, 
And it gave us Milton, Shakespear too, 
And Hampton and Cromwell, as it grew, 
♦103^ 



OUT HERS IN OL' MISSOURY. 

But the seed thus sovrn took root and 

grew 
Till the old, less thrifty than the new, 
Is getting nervous — a little blue — 
The fate of all — it will come to you. 

And yet, Albion, what can subdue 
Thy fame writ deep in the ether blue. 
'Twill last till the old, old world is 

through — 
The race shall drink its last health to ycu . 
♦104^ 



MISSOURI NIGHTINGALES. 



MISSOURI NIGHTI/NGALES. 



When the melancholy gloaming haih 

stolen to the glen, 
And the poet's thoughts are coming un- 
bidden to his pen, 
Lo ! a strident sound ascendeth from out 

the sedgy bog, 
And the flecking moonlight blendelh with 
the croaking of the frog — 
Calling, bawling. 
Rising, falling. 
Oh, you noisy crew! 
What in the world is amiss with you? 

Wherefore these nocturnal chatters, so- 
journers in the earth? 

Is the way mien manage matters provoc- 
ative of mirth? 

Do the poet's constant labors upon his 
idle rhymes 

♦J05^ Sig. 14. 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY. 

Scir fchy risibles, O, neighbors of the bu- 
colic chimes? 

Croaking, poking, 
Joking, shocking, 
Say ! I must request 
That you skedaddle and give us a rest. 

Seek, oh, seek thy hole, and pull it in 

after thee, oh, frog, 
Er*3 exa=}p3ratei bullet pursue thee in 

the bog, 
Till your nightly exultations have per- 
manently ceased, 
And the poet's meagre rations propor- 
tionately increased. 

Stop it, drop it, 
Skip it, hop it, 
Oh, you noisy host, 
Or I'll have you run in and served on 

toast. 

♦106^ 



KIPLING. 



KlPLmG. 

During his illness, 1899. 

*'Who's Kipling, th;it all the world's tc-.lk- 

ing about?'* 
Said a man upon 'change; ''he's a good 

one, no doubt. 
Did he work up a corner in wheat, or say 

how 
Did he make such a great reputation ; — 

come now, 

Who *s Kipling?' ' 

The answer came quick, for the other 

replied : 
*'0h, Kipling, why, he is just now the 

world's pride, 
The fellow who can, with his nagical 

pen. 
Awaken the strain that has slumbered 

since when 
The lyre was smitten by William and Ben, 
That's Kipling." 
♦107^ 



OUT HERE IN OL' MISSOURY . 



A silence ensued as if some greater 

thought 
Had seized for the time on the merchant 

and wrought 
Though he said not a word and went on 

his way , 
Yet there rang through his mind, 'tis 

ringing to-day — 
Kip— Kipling. 

Oh, genius divine, choicest gift of the 

Gods, 
The world is still thine, and is thine too, 

by odds, 
Though pedigree, title and wealth, if 

you please. 
Are good, when you enter all drop on 

their knees — 
Live Kipling 



108* 



PRESS NOTICES. 



** The Impressoin Club," a novel, by John Hen - 
ton Carter. This is a novel with a purpose, and 
the purpose is certain radical reforms in modern 
church methods and in social life. And first, we 
would say that the novel ''business" is done in 
a very clever manner. Most novel readers like 
plenty of dialogue, and they will find it in thig 
book, dialogue that is never dull, but is bright, ra- 
cy, and often witty. — Chicago Advance. 

Mr. Carter is not satisfied with the rep- 
utation he has established through his po- 
etry, and is now coming before the public 
as a novelist and essayist. In his latest 
story, the ''Impression Club," Mr. Carter 
has given an excellent idea of social con- 
ditions as they exist in alh large cities. — 
Rosioell Field, in Chicago Post, 

In "The Impression Club," the author 
has presented a social study of life in large 
cities that bears the evidence of much 
thought and in which are advocated some 
startling reforms. Mr. Carter is strong in 
the art of character drawing, and the per- 
sonages in his story seem very real and 
distinct. — Globe- Democrat. 

"The Impression Club" is worth reading 
for its own sake, for under the guise of a 
story, the author has given a series of brill- 
iant sketches of society life as it is at 
present. His humor is sometimes tinged 
with satire, but never with bitterness. — 
Christian Advocate. 



Mr. John Henton Carter's novel, ''The 
Impression Club," has met with a most re- 
markable welcome . Twenty thousand cop- 
ies have been called for by a discriminating 
public, and the popularity of the book 
promises to be permanent and profitable. — 
Post- Dispatch. 

There is much quaint observation in the 
book, together with a great deal of kind- 
liness. The homely view of problems that 
vex the world is refreshing-. — St. Louis 
Mirror . 

Having just finished reading "The Im- 
pression Club'*, I feel that I should write 
and tell you how very true to nature I deem 
your work .—Florence Pitt Hyke. 

I have read with great interest your "Im- 
pression Club." There is food for thought 
for the most progressive of us, and admo- 
nition keen and needed for the conserva- 
tive among us. — i?e??. W, W. Boyd, Secmul 
Baptist Churchy St. Louis. 

The book will exert an elevating influ- 
ence and I shall be glad to see it have a 
wide circulation. — J. R. Nichols, Pastor 1st 
Congregational Church, Marietta, Ohio. 

**The Impression Club" will exert a 
healthful influence upon society. -Christian 
Herald. 



SIMPSON'S BOOK PRINTING EOUSE. 

M 44 



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